I Am A Hero
by keystone
Summary: A hero is not brave. He is not invincible. He doesn't know everything. He is mortal. He is scared. And he fights anyway. I am Cyborg. I am a hero. Finished.
1. Breaking News

I Am A Hero

A Fanfiction by Keystone

Disclaimer: This is my property. All the details of this story are mine and exclusively mine. However, the characters and songs involved in this story are owned by others, and to be honest, if thy were mine, I would not be writing fanfiction, but producing scripts.

Authors note: This story is for those who glorify evil, those who enjoy conflict on massive scale, and those who are entertained by countless acts of death and destruction. This is to show you just what it is you find so pleasing.

And for those of you new to my style of writing, you will find that I recommend certain songs at the beginning of some chapters. I do that because listening to the suggested song at the time I say will greatly enhance the mood of the story. It isn't required, but it really helps. And please don't send me reviews requesting songs to put in, because this is not that kind of story. So for this one, I would suggest the great "Magic Carpet Ride" by Steppenwolf.

I Am A Hero

Chapter 1: Breaking News

It was a cool winter's eve. The night sky seemed to be alive as snowflakes danced down through the air and blanketed the ground below. Cold wind blew through the glittering high rises of Jump City and embraced its few outdoors citizens in a chilly embrace. The weather had been beautiful lately. Snow fell and cancelled schools, wind came and excited the populace, and the white powder caused many a snowball fight and the building of hundreds of snow men.

On this particular night a group of five teenagers drove towards a club, anticipating a great celebration. These were not the average teenagers, however. These five youths were named Cyborg, Starfire, Beast Boy, Raven, and Robin. The Teen Titans. Resident super heroes of Jump City, they had saved their home countless times from as many enemies. This December day was a day of rejoice for them as their greatest foe, Slade had been finally defeated and handed over to the police.

So as a way to party for their most victorious battle yet, Beast Boy had suggested they go to a happening club he knew by the name up "Upstart". Each night the club had a program called the Upstart Start-Up which was a karaoke contest where the winner would receive a substantial prize. Each member of the team, except perhaps Raven, was busy pondering which song they had planned on singing and winning that great big prize with. Additionally, each week had a contest to determine the best of that week, then of the month, then of the entire year. As each level of competition stepped up, so did the prizes, culminating in great big bastard daddy grand prize.

Robin was busy pondering just what to do now that Slade was imprisoned, even though he would probably escape within a few weeks. Still it would leave them with a little bit of off time where they could relax and work on forming new skills. He would have some time to speak with his former boss and mentor, Bruce Wayne and learn new abilities from his alter ego, Batman.

Beast Boy kept going through the lyrics in his head for the song he knew he was going to do. He could also use the opportunity to confess his feelings for his one true love, and convince her how much he really cared for her. There was some doubt in his mind over whether she cared for him, but he figured it was just because of the whole emotional repression thing. No matter, he would show her how important she was to him.

Starfire considered the implications of the place they were going to. Anxious about singing in public, she decided she was just going to sit and watch the others go up and then perform. It would be most enjoyable to watch her friends sing the popular songs of the day, and then to see how much they sounded like her favorite songs from her home of Tamaran. Oh the laughter she would have.

To Raven, it was all just an average night. An enemy had been defeated, accolades had been given, and reporters had come. Now, as always, it was time to celebrate. And the choice of celebration was just amazing, wasn't it? A karaoke bar? Brilliant! Now, naturally, she was happy that their biggest enemy was for the moment was defeated. But to go out and act like idiots was nothing more than a chance to expose themselves and their weaknesses. But who knows. Watching her crush be a fool could be very fun.

Sitting in the drivers seat across from the brooding dark girl, Cyborg smiled as he hummed one of his favorite songs. Much to his enjoyment, the song, an old soul tune, had the ability to heavily annoy all the other teens in his car. He had been grateful that the battle against Slade was now over and they could all sit back and kick it for a while. Besides, since he had just recently turned 18, he could enjoy his new age and status in the eyes of the government. In his honest, opinion, unless they had no money to go for food afterwards, nothing could possibly go wrong.

So they got to the club, pulled in to the special VIP parking space with their status as heroes. When they got out, amid the wall of cheers, cat calls, and whistles tossed their way, they moved to the door, shaking hands and signing various, things, as they walked in.

Once they got it, the music was blaring, the people were dancing, and the mood was high. Since they didn't serve alcohol, it was an all age club. Of course it was up to the multiple bouncers, far more than there were in the average club, to keep things legal and peaceful. Best part was it was time for people to sign up to do the Start-Up. The whole team moved over and signed up, excepting Starfire. Much to everyone's surprise, even Raven signed up, to sing so real depressing song, but very spiritually powerful, she explained to skeptical looks from her team.

Well, around the time for it to start, the DJ came on and announced it for all to hear. "Aight y'all, listen up! It's time to Start it Up around here! Will the first contestant please step up to the main stage." The first person walked up, a well built guy with spiked blond hair and a legion of girls around him. He stood up, grabbed the mic and let the song spin up. The song sounded like some kind of lame country ditty, with a drawling banjo and a harmonica in the background. Then he started to sing and immediately the crowd went "Boooooooooo". His group of female fellows started to walk away, staying as far from his as possible. He made a cutting motion across his throat and the DJ cut off the song.

"Ewwww, lets try this again. It looks like, whoa! Beast Boy of the Teen Titans is up next!! Give it up y'all!!" The crowd flipped as one of their favorite heroes took the stage and the girls previously hiding from their beau surged back to the front, whistling and screaming, much to his total amazement.

I would suggest that song be played now. In fact, I command it, private!

Beast Boy stood with his head down as the snarling, unusual guitar came to a head and was allowing the crowd to wonder just what song the green Titan could be possibly be preparing to sing. Maybe it was some kind of rock tune, or even a strange techno song of some kind. Just then all that could be heard was a soft guitar and Beast Boy's shockingly professional sounding voice.

"I like to dream, yes yes,

Right between my sound machine," he pointed at Cyborg.

"On a cloud of sound I drift through the night,

Any place it goes is right" using his hands he pointed to all the girls in front of him and got right in their faces, teasing them with his looks.

"Goes far, flies near, to the stars, away from here.

"Well, you don't know what, we could find,

Why don't you come with me little girl," then he whipped around and made eyes with Raven, face to face with her. The crowd backed off and left him and her not a foot apart.

"On a Magic Carpet Ride.

Well, you don't know what, we could see,

Why don't you tell your dreams to me,

Fantasy will set you free."

He reached out with his free hand and softly closed her eyes amid the many hoots from the crowd.

"Close your eyes girl,

Look inside girl,

Let the sound take you away."

He jumped back up on stage after giving her a peck on the cheek, much to everyone's surprise and twirled in place with a grin on his face.

"Last night I held Aladdin's lamp,

And so I wished that I could stay.

Before the thing could answer me

Well someone came and took the lamp away."

He put his hand over his eyes to accent the next line.

"I looked,

Around,

A lousy candle was all I found."

Beast Boy reached down and grabbed Ravens hand and pulled her up on the main stage so he could serenade her in front of all.

"Well, you don't know what, we can find,

Why don't you come with me little girl,

On a Magic Carpet Ride.

Well, you don't know what, we can see,

Why don't you tell your dreams to me,

Fantasy will set you free."

"Close your eyes girl,

Look inside girl,

Let the sound take you away..."

As soon as the second chorus ended he began to dance with the song, allowing the whole crowd to watch him dance and be his best for the girl of his dreams. The wild organ played a wicked sound and he allowed his body to flow to the beat, dancing and having a grand old time as the whole gang danced below, watching them have fun. Until suddenly the music stopped.

"Whoa guys, hate to bust up the fun, but you have to see this," came the grave and hollow sound of the clubs enormously popular DJ. A wall of monitors across from the main stage activated and a picture came on.

It looked like a fire. But on a cruise ship. An American cruise ship. In foreign waters. A news reporter's voice came on over the footage. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we regret to bring you this grave news. A cruise liner, the S.S. Great Wave, was opened fire on by a Chinese warship today. This is the footage recorded by her sister ship outside of China's waters."

As she spoke, the ship sailed calmly alongside the behemoth cruiser. Then was suddenly rocked by the impact of the cruisers' six huge 20-inch guns. Fire swept along her bow as massive holes were blown clear through the peacetime vessel. Thunder rolled from the Chinese warship again and again for three more salvos until finally the huge leisure boat simply exploded on the water.

The clip ended and the reporter was shown back in the studio. "It is believed that over seventeen hundred American civilians were killed before the Chinese naval ship broadcast this message to the S.S. High Tide:

A Chinese voice came on the line and sent this terse, yet simple warning. "Attention American dogs! All of your craft will be destroyed on site and all your peoples will be executed on discovery in Chinese territory. You have been warned!"

The newswoman tried to appear stoic throughout the footage but the tears were evident in her eyes as was the waver in her voice. The microphone slipped out of Beast Boys hand and the thud resonated through the dead silent building.

"It is believed that over three thousand Americans were arrested and executed in China today immediately following the attack on the ship. The President has already asked Congress for permission to go to war and the vote was reached immediately and unanimously. The first troops ship out next week, and the Navy and Air Force have already mobilized. The Army and Marine Corps are asking for volunteers and the President urges all to contribute however they can.

"President Powell also made the following statement in his press address: 'Make no mistake. We are heavily outnumbered. We have the technology, but we need the men and women with the courage to use it. Now that we have declared war, if we do not achieve total victory, our weakness will be exposed and we will surely fall under the weight of all our enemies. I ask for your help. For the second time, America's civilians have felt the sharp stab of evils' sting. We must make it so they will never feel it again.'

"It is this anchor woman's opinion that any who can help, with their brains or bodies that they do so. That is all the news at this time. Once again, we have been attacked, and we have declared war on the Empire of China. Over four thousand civilians are dead. We are at war."

The monitors shut off and the DJ's voice came on over the speakers. "Um, why don't you all go home and be with your families. Now is not the time for fun. Now is time for war."

People slowly shuffled out of the club, some in tears, some with expressions of anger. That anger had to go somewhere as one guy around twenty years old punched an Asian boy in the stomach and began to insult him. "Fucking Gook! Come over here looking for work and a home and then your sneaky little rat people kill ours! You're gonna pay!" he said as he prepared to kick the young boy while the crowd watched.

Before his foot connected a steel one hit him. Cyborg stepped over the man and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close to his face. "He didn't attack us. It looks like you attacked him. Maybe you're the enemy here?" He snarled and let the man go who just got up and stormed away mumbling something about 'that damned coon.'

He turned to see a group of citizens helping the boy, no more than fifteen, to his feet. Then the crowd dispersed, leaving the five super heroes. They walked back to the car in silence. None of them believed what had just transpired. They were witnesses to brotherly love devolving into animalistic hatred. And for the first time one of their own played peace keeper instead of super powered law enforcement.

They rode back to the Tower in silence as each pondered the implications of what it meant for the country to be at war. When they got back home each went to their room, trying to comprehend it all. It was so unreal, yet there was the ship, exploding, with seventeen hundred people burning on it.

A rustling in the kitchen brought the other Titans to the room to investigate. Being more on edge than usual, they were surprised to see Cyborg loading a small bag with food and drinks lying next to a large bag, easily the height of Beast Boy and probably twice his weight .

"Cyborg, what are you doing?" Robin asked, his voice full of sleep and his face showing his exhaustion.

"Leaving." came the steel Titans short reply.

"What?!" was the instant response from all four of the other Titans.

"I'm leaving. To enlist. I can help, I have the strength, technology, and power. And I am the only one of us old enough to join." He said without looking up, his voice suddenly grown up and full of maturity.

Stepping forward, horrified by her friends choice, Starfire pleaded with Cyborg. "Please, friend, do not go. You will surely be damaged, or even killed. I do not want my friend to die." She could not go on, the tears running down her face preventing her from speaking any more. Her knees gave way and she fell to the floor, her sobs consuming her.

"I have to Starfire. I am still human, and while other Americans without my strength or durability are willing to fight and die, I should be too. It is my responsibility as a Titan and as a citizen to do my all for my country."

"Dude, are you out of your damned mind? You're a Titan, you don't have to go spend time with the grunts. That's there job. Yours is to protect the civilians. I mean, you can't go. You just can't. Who's gonna cook and play video games and watch movies with me..." Beast Boy trailed off, unable to speak anymore and had to sit down, leaning against the wall.

"Cyborg, you cannot leave. We need you here. You are the strongest member of our team. And also the smartest, technologically wise. If you leave we will have a hole no one could fill. You helped form this team. You can't just leave it like that." Robin exclaimed. He had a hand on Starfires' shoulder and was busy trying to keep himself from falling apart.

"No. You're all wrong. People, our people, are dying and I can do something about it. I am going and not one of you can stop me." Cyborg stood his ground and by his claim of leaving. Only Raven had yet to speak.

She stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. Here was this man, so caring for his friends and so ashamed of what he had become, yet so eager to risk it all to help save all of them and everyone else. She knew the pain he felt inside of him. She knew the struggle not to kill himself he faced everyday. She knew his choice was right. She knew what to say.

"I support you Cyborg. It will be hard, but you can make a difference. I would be proud to say we were four because one was fighting for us all, even our enemies. If you go, I will be waiting for you to come back." She stuck out her hand and grabbed Cyborgs. A few lights exploded and the windows began to crack ever so slightly.

Cyborg was stunned by his dark natured team mates response and returned the grip, shaking her hand and putting the keys to the T-Car in them. "I'm leaving you all the car. I have left a list of my blueprints in my room, and have a three year supply of power cells, plus tools, spare parts, and a portable recharge unit with me. If I send a message asking for parts, just consult the files in my computer. Goodbye, for now."

He looked into Ravens eyes for a few seconds more, then he slung the large duffel over his shoulder and grabbed the smaller one in his left hand. He turned and began to walk down the hall to the elevator.

The kitchen of Titans Tower was a mess of shocked and scared bodies. Starfire cried on the floor, her tears forming a puddle under her legs. Beast Boy sat slumped against a wall, just staring ahead, not even acknowledging his best friends departure. Robin sat and struggled with the knowledge they were now a man short, and their likely best member.

Raven just closed her eyes, fought back her raging emotions, and coldly accepted that it was the right thing to do. And if any of the Titans could make a difference and save lives, it could only be Cyborg to make that noble a sacrifice. Almost his entire body was gone. Something had been stripped of him. But tonight something had taken its place. Duty.

Cyborg walked down the empty streets, past closed windows and desolate stores. He was headed to the recruiting station to sign his death warrant. Before he left, he had written his will and left it sitting on his desk, knowing the other Titans would have to sign it in case of his death. The thought stopped him in his tracks.

He could very well die in what he was about to do. It was strange to think he had fought the most maniacal super villains, with tacky costumes, goofy phrases, and silly weapons, and not have a fear in the world. But he trembled at the thought of fighting another human being. No powers, no skills, no silly lackeys. Just another man with a gun.

He finally made it to the Marine Corps Recruitment Center. In it was one officer, reading a report of what had happened. Upon seeing the half ton black man in his station, he rose and addressed him using his given name. "Cyborg, hey what are you doing here?" He casually asked, seeing the Titan save the city on many occasions.

Taking a deep breath, Cyborg answered the question.

"Victor Stone, reporting for duty."

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There's the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Or more accurately, I hope it somehow affected you. And if by any chance you are Chinese or Asian and are offended I chose that culture, please don't be. I needed a large enemy and seeing as how China has the largest military on Earth it seemed appropriate. Please give me your feedback. The next chapters' song is going to be "All Along the Watchtower", by Jimi Hendrix, in case wanted a jump on the music aspect. Like I said above, please review.


	2. First Contact

I Am A Hero

A Fanfiction by Keystone

Disclaimer: Not my stuff, just my storyline.

Author's Note: Okay, the second chapter is up. I hope my message is getting through to you. Please enjoy, or rather, please be affected. I hope you all can learn from this. As in the last chapter, I recommend "All Along the Watchtower" by Jimi Hendrix. Play when I ask you to and all will be well. Enjoy, and please review.

First Contact

Titans Tower. Living Room. Three weeks later.

Beast Boy sat on the couch, flipping through the channels, trying to find something to watch that wasn't about the fresh war. Nothing really appealed to him, however, and bad guys had been in short supply lately. They were growing bored and lazy. Plus, with his other comedic partner around, he couldn't even bring himself to crack a single joke.

Deciding he had enough of the TV, he turned on Gamestation. As it warmed up he saw himself it was one of his favorite games. A fantastic game about a mercenary who went around cleaning the world of hostile threats and protecting the innocent...

Beast Boy looked at the controller sitting next to him, and then back at the screen again. Then he suddenly slammed his fist straight down on top of the expensive game system, crushing it into many pieces. A shard of the black plastic stuck through his glove, his red blood running down and dripping onto the shattered console.

The body fell to the ground as a series of 7.62 mm slugs punctured and tore him apart. His partner fell to one knee and brought his gun to bear and opened fire. The hidden ambush team of three Chinese soldiers continued to fire until a grenade flew into their midst and detonated. Bodies flew through the air and their blind was blown apart.

The American scouting team advanced, after stripping the body of useful ammunition, grenades, and supplies. Cyborg took up point and crawled through the underbrush, his eye sensors scanning for body heat, a sure sign of hiding soldiers. It had been like this for the last two days. Him and the team of seven he was in had slogged through the forest, trying to find the enemies supply route for future raiding missions.

Two weeks. He had been in combat for One. The first had been the entire commanding staff of the United States Marine Corps. They wanted to know why he would choose to join in the fight in the first place. "I can make a difference." He simply told them. And they agreed. And sent him to this hell hole after he had some tactical training with other, more experienced soldiers. He was taught fire discipline, tracking, and how to act in a combat zone. Due to his extensive combat experience with the Titans, he had a firm grip on how to fight in a group, even if they were super powered teenagers, the principle was the same. Each member of every group had a certain ability that made them important for the mission to be a success.

His sensors picked up no contacts within two hundred yards, so he raised his hand and gave the all clear signal, and then raised two fingers on his left hand. The squad leader crawled forward and came to a halt next to the hulking teen.

"What is it, Stone?" came the whispered question from his NCO.

"Sir, requesting permission to move ahead and investigate the interior of the choke point the Chinese set up." Cyborg asked.

"Approved. Go and see what kind of maps, reports, or intel you can get from their foxhole."

"Yes sir." Cyborg crawled towards the small camp, scanning for mines, trip wires, or other booby traps. Detecting none, he lifted the roof off of the pit and sank in to it. It was just what he expected it to be. A dirt hole. Stacked on one side were cans of ammo next to jugs of water and rations. Nothing too important. A mirror and a personal journal of one of the soldiers lay on the floor.

Cyborg picked up the journal and flipped through it until a small folded square of paper fell out. He unfolded it and saw a map of the local area, with several trails clearly marked out on it. The one his team was on was just one of dozens, he discovered. In the center of it, nearly three hundred yards from where they were now was the main supply route for the Chinese forces in the area. He stored the map in his memory and then placed the journal, along with the original map in a thigh slot on his armor.

Climbing out of the foxhole, he held up the signal for his team to come to him. Six silent men crawled forward and surrounded him. He showed th map and pointed out to which direction their target was. Sending a message back to HQ, the squad leader, a sergeant by the name of Morris, gave new orders and the squad moved through the brush, guns ready, moving to destroy the supply route.

Cyborg raised his sonic cannon and confirmed it was set on full power. Normally, he would never set it that high, because a blast from his sonic cannon on full power would hands down kill whatever it hit, piercing it in a lancing beam of death. But this was no ordinary situation, and his superiors had decided that he must keep it set to full power, as it would do the same thing as his fellows M-16's would, and more. Kill the enemy.

It still sickened him to know he had already killed twelve people. In two days, he had taken twelve peoples lives. In three years as a Titan, he had never killed even a squirrel. Now, twelve humans were dead by his hand, literally. He shook off the feeling and kept moving forward. They had encountered little resistance today, and only two members of demolitions squad he was on had been killed, while one received a minor injury. Their kill ratio was impeccable. The brass would be very proud of them.

I'd say go ahead and please play the song now, but that would be too polite. So play it now, Maggot!

After half an hour of slogging through the heavily wooded area, they arrived at the summit of a low rise, overlooking a wide trail, maybe fifty feet across, and paved with dirt. Every hundred feet there was a sentry posted and there were fresh tire tracks in the dusty road. How many tons of supplies had already been moved was anybodies guess, but the last trucks would be the last for a while.

Sergeant Morris signaled Cyborg, himself, and the squad sniper to move to the left flank and ambush the single sentry while the other four members of his squad moved to begin planting the explosive charges at fifty foot intervals. The squad nodded ascent and vanished into the brush, invisible, silent, deadly.

Morris, Cyborg, and he sniper Conner slunk along the tree line and moved silently up to the guard stationed there. Drawing out his knife, Morris snaked his arm around and covered the guards mouth with one hand and then slit his throat with the other. He then quickly pulled out a roll of tape and taped the guards hands back to his gun and leaned his body back against the tree he leaned on, so it appeared he was still paying attention.

Conner took up a position and covered the northern moving trail in case any enemy patrols should come along the path. Cyborg removed his pack and pulled two large charges out of it, maybe seventy pounds of C-4 high explosives. He removed them from their special armored containers and handed three of the ten pound charges and detonators to Morris while he took the other four.

The mission plan called for the locating of the original trail to be used for future equipment raiding missions. But on discovery of the map, their orders had been changed to destruction of the trail at wherever they encountered it first to disrupt any enemy activities. So they were given a number of explosives in case they should discover such a map.

Cyborg took his four bricks and placed them at twenty foot intervals on either side of the trail, inserting their detonators as he did. Morris did his the same way and so did the other squad, comprised of the medic, two machine gunners, and a specially trained saboteur. When the charges were all set, the seven men regrouped at the original spot on top the grotto and waited for the inevitable Chinese patrol when two of their sentries failed to report in.

It soon came, and from both ends. A jeep with an officer and three grunts came around and pulled up to each sentry point. As soon as they made their grim discovery, Morris pushed the activation button and detonated all one hundred and thirty pounds of high explosives on the path.

The heat wave was intense and several tons of dirt were thrown sky high when they blew up. The bodies of the investigating Chinese were simply obliterated and nothing remained of that section of the supply route save for a stretch of burning, smoking earth.

As soon as they blew, Morris bawled out an order to his men. "Alright lets move, boys! They'll be here any second to find out what the hell happened, and I don't wanna be here when they do." Abandoning all pretense of stealth, the team turned and ran through the woods, back the way they had came. Each member now lighter due to the absence of twenty to forty pounds of bombs on their back they could move much quicker.

Despite their hasty departure, they still encountered several teams of startled Chinese soldiers. Dropping to one knee and firing the two squad machine gunners annihilated the grey clad soldiers and the sniper expertly fired the six rounds in his magazine, each round taking one enemy life. Cyborg himself fired his cannon from a standing position, blowing holes through encroaching enemy troops.

Before he died, however, one radio carrying soldier alerted the local commanders that an American squad was in their territory and also told where they were currently before a hailstorm of 5.56 mm rounds nailed him to the ground. Now their biggest threat was time. Time to escape was running faster and faster and each time they stopped to fight an enemy they had less and less of it.

Realizing they would all be captured and killed if they stayed much longer Cyborg turned to Morris and spoke to him over the din of battle. "Sir, call in for an air evac and I can clear a landing zone for the choppers!" Then he fired on a group of three creeping Chinese.

In between his pistol's reports Morris turned back to face and Cyborg and spoke back to him. "Son you must be out of your mind! We cannot make a" BLAM! "Landing zone in such close proximity to the " BLAM! "Enemy!"

"No sir, I can make a space for two choppers to land and pick us up." Cyborg replied.

"Negative private. Just keep shootin' an movin' and we'll make it outa here just fine." As soon as he finished his sentence a Chines fire team broke through the field of fire and gunned down the sniper and the demolitions expert. Luckily the two machine gunners were able to bring their weapons to bear and eradicated the enemy in under a second.

"Stone! Change of plans! Clear us a zone and I'll get some choppers down here to pick us up. Get that field made son and we'll be out of here!" He activated the radio on his shoulder and spoke into HQ, requesting two evac choppers, and they agreed. "Two minutes, Victor. Get that field made before then!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Cyborg yelled out and began to fire his sonic cannon in a laser thin beam, clearing trees, shrubs, bushes, and all things within a hundred foot radius pretty much. He worked the beam over his fellows heads and even sliced a few Chinese in half with it. He shuddered when their bodies fell in halves to the ground, making obscene slick noises as they did. But he got the job done, and in two minutes the choppers were there, hosing the perimeter with machine guns and rockets.

Cyborg, Morris, and the others loaded their number on board and quickly took off amid a metal storm. For the first time in two days, Cyborg thought about his new situation. He looked at his hands. His dirty, blood covered hands. They now spoke for him. His will and individuality he was so proud of as a Titan was gone. He was now nothing more than an instrument of the governments will. He saw his body armor, repainted with Marine Corps jungle camouflage and his arms and face streaked with black and green. He closed his eyes and tried not to think how many more humans he left dead.

Back at base, he and the others left the transports and reported to the command center for a debriefing. Once Cyborg and the others gave their full reports, he handed over the journal he had discovered to the Intelligence officers in the hope it held some useful data. Then he went to get some R & R before he had to go back out. So he walked over to where he saw his Sergeant and the two machine gunners locked in a poker game.

He walked over to him and before he could speak the sarge looked up and saw him coming. "Hey Vic," he yelled, the cigar hanging out of his mouth not even distorting his speech, "come here and sit for a second." Cyborg did just that and sat in the empty chair next to the older officer of at least twenty years. He could have been his dad.

"Yes sir, what can I do for you?" Asked the respectful Cyborg.

"You can sit with us and talk for awhile. Is that alright?" he half asked, half ordered. So Cyborg sat down, and folded his arms across his chest. "Tell me, soldier. What made you join this war?"

"Well, because I can do something to help. I mean I'm the strongest soldier in the corps, and could take a tank shell head on. I can do what it would take a whole platoon to do on my own. And I felt like it was my duty as a citizen of my country to do all that I could. But I know my place, and I know who's really in charge. I just want to make it home safe and be with my friends again when this is over."

"Sounds like the rest of us, soldier. Well, I'm glad you're here to lend a hand. You smoke?" the sarge asked, holding out a cigar for his newest squad mate.

"Well, I never have, but I'll try..." Cyborg said as he took the lit cigar the Sarge offered him from his own mouth and took a puff on it.

Morris and his buddies must have thought it was the funniest thing ever watching the one ton soldier hacking around and coughing like an asthmatic working on pyro. Well Sarge got the cigar back from Cyborg and then he sat back down.

"I think I'll pass on those in the future, sarge." Vic commented as he swore he hacked up half a lung. He leaned forward and rested his massive forearms on the table and continued his discussions with his new friends.

"That's alright kid, most people are the exact same. When you grow up a little you'll be fine." he chuckled and rubbed Cyborgs head a little to embarrass him and build a relationship. "Meantime, what's it like being a soldier, kid? Killing bad guys instead of tying em up? How's that?"

The previously smiling Cyborg looked down and is face suddenly hardened. "All my life I was trying to protect every single person I could since I became what I am. Now, I have to kill to protect. It hurts, deep down, every time I put another human in my sights and shoot to kill. That's not what I want. But I have a family, so I have to do it. If not for them than no one.

"It's scary. On every mission I have been terrified. I know I could handle myself, but I don't want to do it on my own. I would rather just hand them over to the police, but they would kill them. When I first decided to join, I was expecting scenes of valor, men charging up hills, flash ad thunder and all. Now, creeping through jungles, slitting throats, and ripping men apart in colossal explosions. I don't think I could ever be prepared for this." He hung his head low and looked to the Sarge for comfort.

"I know, young one. We all felt that way when we picked up the rifle for the first time. It's natural to be so afraid with such an unnatural thing. But you're doing fine. You said it yourself, you can do things that would take a whole platoon to do on your own. That's something to be proud of. And you're still twice the soldier that Jackson is!" Morris' laughed as he pointed a finger at one of his gunners, a red haired man of about thirty, sitting across from him.

"Yeah, thanks a lot Sir." came the sarcastic reply of the man. Their was a very light mood in the air as the four men played cards and shared stories for nearly two hours. Afterwards Morris, Jackson, and Lynch left to go clean and repair some of their equipment and Victor began work on some of his damaged parts. Mostly scratches and buffs, but he still felt they ought to be removed and paint reapplied to them.

Afterwards, he met up with Morris, Jackson, and Lynch in the mess hall and they ate together. He shocked them all be not only being able to fight as well as they could but by being able to out eat them by a mile. When dinner was over they sat and talked for a while and then at precisely nine thirty Morris told Victor to go and get some rest. "Tomorrow we are launching an attack based on the intel we acquired over the last few days. It aint gonna be easy. Be ready. Lots of people will die tomorrow. But I know you'll make it." Then he left.

Cyborg made his way back to the barracks he stayed in and laid out on the recharge table he brought with him and the Marine techs had help him set up. Sleep would be good for him. He hadn't had any in fifty six hours.

The dawn came quick, rising over the morning fog and Cy was up early. H went for his morning run with he troops, scarfed a quick breakfast at seven a.m. Not that he wanted to be awake at such an ungodly hour, but the Corps saw sleeping in as a sign of idleness. And Cyborg quickly learned that the Corps hated idleness.

Once chow was over he ran a diagnostic on his armor and went to the command center to get orders with his fellow soldiers. The attack was going to begin at five p.m. that day. The map Cyborg recovered clearly showed that the large trail began only a few miles upwind from where they had destroyed a huge section of it. The base was sending fully half of its total strength, roughly six hundred Marines, to go and take the center.

Victor learned that to 'take' a city meant to capture or kill all of it's military personnel, annihilate all defensive measures, and replace the flag. He knew he would have to kill. But he had done it before, he reminded himself, 'And I can do it again.' Steely resolution solidified the words in his mind.

After the briefing, the attacking force was divided into three attacking groups. Red, Blue, and Gold group. Each had a specific objective. Red group, the largest group with four hundred soldiers, was tasked with dealing with infantry. Blue group with one hundred and fifty men, was given the job of infiltrating the various buildings in the installation. Finally, Gold group, under the command of Sergeant Morris, was told to go and break the enemies defensive line so the rest of the assault could continue. They had only fifty soldiers to do this. However, they included the best machine gunners, snipers, and explosives experts in the entire detachment. And they had the one ton surprise of Cyborg, Victor Stone, to cause havoc.

Five o clock came around quick and the assault began. Because of transportation restrictions, only about fifty men could move in at a time. Which meant all of Gold group could begin to soften up the lines to the point where Red group could land and begin to push the enemy back when they arrived half an hour later.

Well the insertion went off without a hitch and Gold groups' soldiers expertly deployed themselves and began to pound the enemy lines. In the first few minutes of the battle, they had killed close to one hundred soldiers and had destroyed several armored vehicles and barricades. Surprise was on their side for now.

Morris expertly led his troops through their duties, and within the hour, they had opened up a hole in the Chinese defense. Around this time, Red group had landed and started to push into the base. Gold group continued to push forward and clear an ever widening hole in the enemy lines. But they weren't invincible. The Chinese did not want to lose their territory.

A squad of heavy weapons soldiers moved in to attack the Americans. Three machine guns and seven assault rifles opened up the invading soldiers. Unbeknownst to the first troops of the Red group, a hail storm of fire awaited them. The minute they ran through the Chinese barricades they found themselves up against a wall of guns. Thunder rolled from the barrels and ground shook in sympathy as marines fell as thousands of rounds picked them up and slammed them back down to the ground.

For some time the massacre continued as the Chinese laid down cris crossing lines of fire until the champion of the Gold group, Cyborg responded to a call for assistance. He ran around the corner and was right in the line of fire. At first the Chinese didn't know what to do. Here was this huge boy, young, but covered with armor and a huge gun for his right arm. So they did what was natural to a soldier. Fired.

Victor Stone had never been shot before. Not with a steel jacketed slug at least. The impacts of several high velocity rounds rocked him back on his heels and he struggled to remain on his feet. He dropped to the ground to protect himself and come up with a plan. Desperately trying to find a way to take out the emplacement, he looked to the buildings around him and his answer was obvious.

He raised his arm and aimed right above the soldiers on the right side of the street and fired, piercing the concrete building. He then sawed his arm to the left, breaking loose many large chunks of concrete. The pieces fell to the ground, crushing the dug in soldiers into pulp. Quickly doing the same to the left side before the matching soldiers could abandon their shelter, he single handedly cleared the first major choke point of the battle.

The fight raged on for the rest of the day, and well into the next. Many lives were lost, but the objective had been met. An enemy outpost was on the verge of capture by hard working American soldiers. One building was left to search. Due to the number of casualties suffered by Blue group, members from Gold group were selected to fill its ranks, including Sergeant Morris and Private Stone.

As they approached the building a single shot rang out.

Morris was busy telling Cyborg some of the more important aspects of CQB, Close Quarters Battle, so he would have more of an idea of what to do when they got inside. "You've done a fantastic job, Victor. I will be sure to put you in for a promotion in my next report." He reached out and shook the colossal teens hand.

Before Cyborg could even respond to the compliment, he felt a spray on his face. A single shot echoed in his ears.

One shot.

One...

Before he could react Morris was thrown backward and fell back onto a concrete platform on his back. A hole in the center of his throat slowly leaked blood and his hands bounced once on the hard pavement before finally coming to a rest not five feet from Cyborg. The charge had already began and the rest of the entry team broke through the door and began fighting back the rest of the Chinese defenders to take the final structure.

"Medic!!!!!!!!!" Cyborg screamed at the top of his lungs, even though his sensors showed he was already dead. He grabbed the dead mans hand and held on till he arrived. Never had someone died right in front of him. But then again, a lot of things were new lately.

Not ten minutes ago he had pulled soldiers out of oncoming fire and fired his rifle one handed while throwing back a Chinese grenade. He had dive tackled soldiers out of lines of enemy fire. He had put his life on the line to save so many, and now he lay dead on a slab of rock.

Cyborg couldn't help but think he would be next.


	3. We're Surrounded!

I Am A Hero

A Fanfiction by Keystone

Disclaimer: This is not property of mine. Just the story belongs to me.

Authors Note: So far, I have got quite a good response to this story. I must thank you all for the reviews and comments you all have made to me about it. I must say it appears you all have picked up on the subtle themes within each chapter to define what the situation really is. But, enough with the 'thank you's, now time for the nitty gritty. For the new chapter you all are about to read, I would strongly recommend you download "Voodoo Child" by Jimi Hendrix. It would be very wise of you to do so. On with the show!

We're Surrounded!

After the first person to show Cyborg respect had been shot down not three feet from him, Cyborg had begun to look at the war in a new light. Suddenly the truth of the situation was evident. He was in a hostile land, filled with an entire people who wanted him and all those with him dead. He may have been almost invincible, but his allies weren't. Seeing that proven all around him was a rather moving experience for him.

After the expeditionary force had captured the Chinese outpost, more soldiers were brought in to occupy it and begin more invasion exercises. So with the nearly four hundred soldiers that had survived the initial assault, the Americans hunkered down inside the Chinese fort and awaited to be reinforced. So for two days the men of the newly christened "Alpha Base" kept watch for Chinese combat teams and tried to pass the time.

Some played cards, others looked through the Chinese soldiers barracks to see what treasures they could find. Still others practiced their maneuvers, while even more refined their skills and repaired and maintained their equipment. Cyborg could not find the energy to do any of those. He was still recovering from the shock earlier battle. He had killed men, many of them. He had been shot, many times. He was wearing blood, all over.

But still, he had yet to be wounded, something he was thankful for. So he did the best he could to move on. The image of the sergeant, laying on that concrete block, a pool of his own blood raising him up stayed with him. At night, when he recharged his batteries, his biological brain haunted him with nightmares of watching that happen, over and over. He grabbed the dog tags off of the body before he was wrapped up in the black body bags and stored them in his hip armor hatches. If he made it out of here, alive, he would deliver those tags, he told himself.

He had one more year to go through with before his tour ended, and if the war was still going on, he would stay on and keep fighting. He stopped thinking about the future, and tried to focus on the present. Head Quarters wanted more real estate. So they would be launching more and more sorties once additional soldiers arrived to give the exhausted, beleaguered defenders of Alpha Base some breathing room.

In the meantime, Cyborg had left his bunk and started to wander aimlessly around the base. His optics catalogued a great number of things. He walked over to the medical center and watched as a dozen doctors performed field surgery on wounded soldiers. The smell of blood in the air was clogging his nose, and death hung all around him. Leaving before the stench overcame him and made him ill as well, he took a tour of the bases hastily erected American defenses. Machine gun pits and sniper posts were the most common, but he also witnessed a few men atop large sentry towers.

His legs carried him over to the motor pool and he saw a number of armored vehicles, mostly HUMVEE's and a few command jeeps. But he did see a number of mechanics overhauling some of the Chinese aging vehicles. Some of these ancient things were pickup trucks with heavy weapons bolted on top of them and a couple of armored personnel carriers. Most exciting to him was the pit boss struggling to keep his ragtag group of combat repairmen in order. Two of them were busy trying to nail the other with oil applicators. He laughed when he saw the high spirited men and turned around on his way.

Next Cyborg moved himself to the quartermasters station. There were a few items he wanted to pick up. Specifically, he needed some oil lubricant to help him replace his power gauge, which had been destroyed in the fire fight he had oh so recently survived. He got the proper lubricant, removed and replaced the broken component of his armor, and had then began to run a simple systems diagnostic to confirm he was fully operational again.

Before he could do that, however, an alarm klaxon sounded, meaning the base was under attack! He charged his cannon and ran out of his barracks to the sight of six Chinese helicopters zooming over the captured base and strafing all those on the ground with machine guns, rockets, and grenades. Everywhere he looked all he saw was chaos as men ran to and fro and were cut down by the rain of high caliber bullets.

One of the choppers fired several rockets into the motor pool garage, igniting the vats of oil and gasoline and setting off a chain reaction. Seconds later, raging fires inside blew out the windows and then finally the entire building was blown skyward as the thousands of pounds of fuel exploded. The resulting shockwave blew the surrounding soldiers outward and knocked several of them down to their feet. A few unlucky mechanics were caught inside when it blew, and were consumed by the fiery blast.

The attack had come from nowhere, Cyborg gathered, from what little bits of hollered speech the soldiers were yelling. It came as no surprise, his sensors couldn't even pick up the approaching aircraft. Even with the little combat experience he had, it was still obvious that was not the only force sent to them. But they could worry about that later. Step one was to go and get the enemy aircraft away from the base before they could annihilate everything.

"Voodoo Child", now Maggot!!

He ran from cover to cover, taking note of the patterns of the helicopters. Each one had a number on their port and starboard sides, from one to six. The helicopters ranging from one to three were busy engaging infantry and focusing on sheer amount of casualties. Four to six were using the multiple rocket pods on their stubby wings to do as much damage to the structures of te camp as possible.

Deciding to protect the camps various buildings first, Victor charged from the shed he was using as cover and took aim at the nearest aircraft. He fired his cannon and the beam impacted on the side of the lead vessel, listing it to port. It began to drill into the hull and finally punched through and pierced the roof of the craft, destroying its rotor connectors and sending the ship crashing into the ground.

He accessed the firing controls for his blaster and adjusted the beam so it would deliver a very narrow beam that would punch straight through the hull. Then with a simple motion of his arm he could slice the opposing craft in two. Perfect.

Running out into the open he sighted the number five chopper and shot a beam of cobalt destruction at it. It did just as he expected and entered the cockpit while also shooting out of the back of the craft. Harshly raising his arm up, the to equal halves of the enemy aircraft fell to the ground, a smoking, burning mess.

Bursting out to face the final building destroying enemy he fired a burst of razor thin blasts, holing the craft in over ten places. Fiery debris rained down as the ship exploded, raining over Stone. He stood stock still, as the pieces of death fell around him, some bouncing off of him. A few soldiers hiding near where he was saw him standing there, and drew their own courage off of his unbreakable will.

Pleased that he had successfully removed half of the hostiles with only four buildings destroyed, Vic turned his attention to the other remaining airborne ships. His sensors, which before had registered nothing on radar, were now tracking several large heat signatures, so he followed those. The first gun ship he came across was trading fire with a group of holed up marines.

He fired at the tail section and shattered the tail rotor into a million flaming pieces. But the craft remained airborne, which meant it could still fire. It wobbly turned as soon as the pilot recognized the bulk of the soldier who had attacked. As it sighted him with it's rotary cannons a flight of rockets lashed out from the group of pinned infantry and detonated on the hull of the helicopter.

As it fell to the ground in a charred, burning pile, Cyborg gave a thumbs up to the hard pressed defenders. He allowed a smile to cross his face until a red hot sledgehammer hit him right in the back.

As he had fought the first infantry chopper, a second moved in behind him to kill him before they lost any more of their number. Lining him up in his sights, the weapons officer of the craft fired a high explosive rocket right at the armored soldier. Expecting him to be in a million pieces, The pilot moved in, allowing the rotors to plow the smoke out of the way to make visual confirmation.

Not seeing any thing but a crater, the pilot prepared to turn and continue its grim work when out of nowhere a volley of explosive charges slammed all over the hull, blowing the aircraft into pieces.

After the attack collided with him Cyborg was eating dirt. Literally. His circuits overheated and his servos groaned in sympathy. For the first time in along time, he actually felt the pain from an enemies attack. The natural flesh he maintained reeled. He burned, he bled from a massive gash along his left triceps and part of the hardware inside his titanium body was visible inside a narrow crack in his shell.

Luckily, the Marines in the firing pits saw what happened to their fellow, and they rushed to his assistance. One soldier severely burned his hands by grabbing the spot where the rocket had impacted. The other wrapped their flak jackets around him and dragged him, face don, over into their formation. Quickly trying to assess his wounds, the local squad leader had attempted to speak with the former Titan.

"Hey, you all there? Hello, Cyborg, can you hear me?"

He couldn't hear anything. Not counting the massive ringing in his ears, of course. He strained to lift his head and make some sense of his surroundings. He could vaguely see a dark form in front of him, and several similar shapes in the background, their limbs giving off bright yellow flashes and massive shocks making his body tremble. He could just barely hear someone say "Are you all right," and then nod. The his optics failed, his audio failed, and he entered his "Safe" mode.

At Titans Tower Starfire was flipping through the stations, trying to find something enlightening. As she did, she saw a report of an American detachment that had claimed a Chinese outpost. She lingered for a brief second, seeing if maybe she could catch a glimpse of her noble friend.

After a few minutes of listening to logistic information, she had nearly given up hope when in the background of the main footage she saw his distinct outline carrying a massive drum on one shoulder.

She inhaled sharply. Seeing her friend still alive was so wonderful she could not put words to it. She covered her mouth to prevent crying out in joy and wiped a small tear from her face. "Friends! Cyborg is on the screen for viewing!!" They came and saw the replay, watching the image of their steel partner hefting a huge barrel. They all felt the same, and shared a similar reaction.

But in times of war news travels slowly to the populace, and the video feed was two days old. Unbeknownst to them the man named Victor Stone was in a near limbo state of non-death. His eyes were dark orbs, showing no sign of life or brain activity. His vitals were almost impossible to read. But luckily, one of the medics on hand had memorized the files on Cyborg's systems and had tried to jumpstart the armored hero. Assuming he had absorbed heavy damage and in was a state of self recovery, he decided that he needed to get new batteries into Cyborg, or at least recharge the ones he had.

Conferring with the squad leader, he was granted permission to go with three Marines to back him up to Cyborgs barracks and recover the necessary parts. They quickly departed, melting into the smoke and sliding along burning walls until the arrived at the bunker and located the parts' stash for Cyborgs equipment. Selecting a new back plate segment to place over the cracked one he currently had, and a few other tools, the team returned to the fortified center where they had been in the first place.

Cyborg subconsciously observed the status readout in front of his eyes. Red words flashing in a black abyss. 'System Efficiency at 96%, Main CPU online, All systems functional, Beginning start up procedures.'

"Uhnn..." Cyborg slowly opened his eyes slowly. He saw the ceiling. It was dirty and low, with a single low power yellow bulb giving the room a musky look. He rose up off of the steel table and took notice of his surroundings. A few marines, all injured in some way. A few exits, two of them. Dirt tunnels leading off into darkness, tunnels all undoubtedly leading into similar rooms.

"What happened?" he queried as he rose to his iron feet. The few faces in the room suddenly hardened.

"Well, sir, after you took the hit in the back, you went down for the count. A couple of us dragged you here and made repairs as the rest of the troops tried to take out the final chopper. It got away, but it left limping. Well, less than two hours later we got sacked by a huge force of Chinese infantry."

"Sir? What do you mean, Sir?" Cyborg asked the private, confused.

"Seeing as how you single handedly took out four heavily armed enemy craft you were promoted to Corporal. Brass thought you deserved it." The grunt answered with a grin. "So now we're holed up in this tunnel network while we try to fight our way to the surface. Reinforcements are still en route, and we're likely on our own for at least twelve hours. It's been twenty three hours since the main attack began. The choppers were just to soften us up."

"Okay," Cyborg said, "So what are our assets?"

"Close to four hundred infantry, a few veteran officers, and some heavier weapon pieces. But there are close to one thousand Chinese up there. I don't think we can take them until more friendlies arrive."

Cyborg pondered the data, and decided the best course of action would be to give it back to the Chinese. But how? He needed a way to get up top and see what was going on. "Are there any routes back to the surface?"

"Yes, a whole mess of em. Follow me." The young private walked down a hall and through a log dark passage. After a few minutes the two arrived at a large station, where close to seventy Marines tended wounds and tried to come up with some kind of plan.

"This way," the private pointed straight up a ladder that ended in a hidden hatch. "We scattered some debris over it so it will look like just a pile of rubbish."

Victor looked up the ladder and then faced his guide. "Thank you soldier. I'll be back in a few minutes. I want to do some scouting."

"Yes sir. But be careful sir, there's a bunch of slope heads up there. Just keep an eye out."

"Before I do, just know if you ever use a word like that in front of me again, I'll have your head on a stick," Cyborg said as he leaned in face to face with the private.

"Ye-ye-yes sir!" The shorter man mumbled.

Victor turned back to the ladder and began to climb. The ladder rose close to three stories up and had several gripping points on it. Thankfully it was wide enough to allow his massive bulk to climb without crushing the small steps.

When he reached the top, he tuned his sound amplifications up to full and listened for any sign of Chinese soldiers. Hearing nothing that would convince him otherwise, he undid the lock and pushed the hatch upward, glancing out as he did, the rays of sun casting hard shadows inside the regained enemy armory.

Not even picking up any indications of movement, Cyborg fully climbed out and then closed and recovered the hatch. He took a few tentative steps toward the door and heard the first sounds of enemy troops in a long time. A few baked orders and the sound of some men cleaning rifles. Using his advanced sensors he determined that there was only a handful of guards in the next room. Maybe three.

Favoring stealth over brute force, he inched his way around and saw the three guards sitting there talking to one another as they kept watch over what appeared to be two unconscious Americans. He snuck up on them, determined to rescue the two and eliminate some of the enemy soldiers if at all possible.

Which it was. He used is massive fists to crash down on the heads of the first two and then he reached over to grab the third by the throat. He squeezed and felt the puny calcium bone snap. When he was satisfied all his immediate threats were taken care of, he moved to the door the others had exited through. He peered out of it and saw what he had feared.

"We're surrounded."

Every place he looked was crawling with enemy troops. Enemy armor moved here and there and soldiers ran through drills all across the camp. There had to be some way to get rid of them all. Before he could think about what that plan might be, he picked up a motion contact. Right on top of him!

The officer from before was on his way back with a group of seven or eight replacement guards. Turning back he sprinted for the two bodies and slung them across one shoulder. Then he made his way back to the hidden hatch to get back down below as fast as possible. Shoving aside the debris, he muscled it open and dropped down, slamming the hatch as he did.

This created a lot of noise, and did not go unnoticed. As he slid down the concrete tube leading back down to the rest of the Marines, he barked out orders. "Set up a firing team at the tunnel entrance now! Get ready to repel the Chinese!"

No sooner had he landed, absorbed the shock with his massive knees, and sprinted away, the hatch above was opened. No fire yet. A few enemy orders. The translation software in Victors audio sensors determined it was a call for backup, and that soon the whole base would be on top of them. He announced this to the others, and they braced themselves. More sound above.

Three black ropes fell down through the hole, and three soldiers rappelled down while one climbed down the ladder. On landing, they saw no sign of any American presence and signaled for more soldiers to come down. Once nearly twenty had assembled in the landing area, the concealed American fire team opened up on the unsuspecting soldiers.

In seconds, the entire infiltration team had fell, and from the sounds above, more soldiers would be on their way to try and push back the Americans. Knowing the ladder area would make a perfect choke point, Cyborg had ordered the privates in the region to deploy around the area and take up firing positions from there.

The Chinese commander obviously realized the same thing and had decided on a different method instead of using infantry. One by one, several small, spherical objects fell through the opening. Not grenades the troops realized, they would have detonated by now. What could they be-

"Gas!!!" Victor yelled as he ran toward the thirty or so odd balls on the floor. As soon as he reached them they began to open up and fill the chamber with poisonous gas. This was a threat that needed to be dealt with immediately. Even though they were still expelling gas Victor began to grab them and se his mechanical muscles with his athletic ability and threw the bombs skyward, back up to the surface.

He tossed as many as he could before the fumes began to overcome him and he ran, his height and piston powered legs launching him through growing fog and picking up the few living soldiers along the way as they frantically tried to escape the gas chamber. This was a HUGE infraction of acceptable military practice, and the generals would be absolutely furious that it happened. One thing was clear from it, "We will be trapped down here for some time," Stone said to no one in particular as he closed and sealed the hatch behind him.

He tried to erase the image of the men in the room, clawing at their throats and screaming with airless lungs. They fell to the ground, writhing and squirming, as the poisonous air crept into their lungs and squeezed them out of life.

As he made a tour of the rest of the network, he took heart in seeing that the tunnels were well stocked in both food and supplies. If necessary, they could hold here for some time. After taking his tour and discovering all of what was left, Victor picked up several garbled radio transmissions. The Marines had landed, and they were sticking it to the Chinese above. It would only be a matter of time until they could break out and rejoin the fight with their brethren.

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Okay, so that takes care of chapter three. And god damn that was a pain in the ass to write. Seriously, it took me the entire day to write this thing. Oh well. Anyway, for your information, the next chapter will be greatly enhanced should you have the song "War Pigs" by Black Sabbath. In fact, without it, the whole chapter will just feel different. That kick, that awful sting will be missing from it. But I guarantee it will still horrify you to know end. Let me know what you think. Tell me how you feel Cyborg is doing, and tell me if you think he will ever be Cyborg again when the whole situation is over. Or if he will even make it that far...


	4. Tour of Duty

I Am A Hero

A Fanfiction by Keystone

Disclaimer: Guess here...a little closer...just a little more...THEY'RE NOT MINE!! Okay, but the story indeed is. Nor do I own the concept of war. If I did, I would take the note I wrote it on and throw it far, far away.

Author's Note: Okay yins, I'm sorry for the long wait. But here is the final chapter of I Am A Hero, in all of its war-torn savage glory. For this chapter, you would be well served to have possession of "War Pigs" and "Iron Man" by Black Sabbath. They capture the surreal nature of the most common event in human history with a passion I could never achieve.

Tour of Duty

It had been over fourteen months since Cyborg and the company he was in wrestled control of a Chinese outpost into American hands, lost it, and then regained it. He now was a Sergeant himself, promoted for honor and outstanding bravery in the field of battle. He had also been granted twelve Purple Hearts, after the brass decided even though he was armored, being punctured by enemy fire was still being wounded. The men under his command looked up to him and respected him.

No longer was he considered an outsider. Again. When he had enlisted, so many lives ago, that was his biggest concern. That he would not fit in again. But he had forced it out of his mind when he grasped the implications of the war. If America lost to China, then she would be to weak to defend herself against all of her enemies. So she had to win. And win decisively. Make an example for the rest of the world to see. And so she did.

Cyborg pondered the scope of that as he sat in his tent. In those seven months, had it been really necessary to see those kinds of 'examples'? Those...things...he had done, and ordered others to do? No. He had done his duty. To his country and his men. But did that make any of it right?

He leaned up off of his rack, rubbed his face with both of his hands, and then looked at them as he pulled them away. They had once been mirror smooth, and free of scars, scuffs, and the guilt that bore down on him now. Like he himself had once been. Fight a bad guy here, throw a bus there, all in the name of justice. Now, he wondered what he was fighting for. Such savagery he had seen in the last few months. Such disregard for the very same lives he was fighting to save as many of. The reality of the situation had hit home weeks ago.

He had to kill to save. At the time, he still believed the spoon fed lies of his superiors into thinking things were fair and even. Now, the very notion of it had made him feel ill. Taking lives to save them? No, something about that was wrong, very wrong. But he had his orders, and he could not just abandon them, or his charges. They viewed him as an idol. Only a few months older and younger than he was. They looked up to him. Looked up to him for his battle skills. His ability to take lives. How good he was at killing.

Nothing for him to be proud of. Not after what he had seen. Horrible things. He let his mind wander back to the night they all watched this one movie, something scary, but he could not remember what it was called. He decided it didn't matter. That was when he was Cyborg. Inhabitant of Jump City. Super Hero. Sparkling symbol of pride and power to all who saw him. Now, he was an emblem. A bright red flag for killers. The role model for those who would strip life. A muddy, blood-drenched, terror inspiring, and God invoking battery of death. A paid killer. He was no better than the mad men he had fought so long ago...

Every medal, every victory speech he had given and was given was so false to him now. Why should he feel so good with things? What did he have to feel so proud of? Men were dead because of him! Never would they ever hear the sound of laughter. Their children crying or playing. Families calling for supper. Nothing. He had taken that from them. Taken their lives, and simultaneously the lives of all those who knew them. Sons, fathers, brothers, friends, mentors, all lay dead at his feet. And he should feel proud?

He grabbed at the medal display on his dress plates and threw them to the ground in a fit of despair. Then he closed his eyes and allowed the machinery in him to gorge itself on the capacious batteries in the table. There was talk of a massive invasion into the capitol, to capture Chinese leaders and force a stalemate. Why bother...

He closed his biological eye and struggled to find a memory in his brain that was not one of terror. They came to him at once. A flood of emotion and images. Sounds and faces of men who he had stripped of their very existence. He tried to avoid them, but like the war, everywhere he tried to turn, it was still there. Looking him right in the eye, never moving, never blinking, and always reminding him. Reminding him of what he had done.

Play "War Pigs" now if you have it. Then play "Iron Man" when it finishes.

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"Stone! Incoming!!" The squad leader had shouted as a group of infantry charged up a bank to attack the freshly reinforced American position. Firing as they ran, their shots found their marks and two friendly men went down, their bodies ripped and torn by the burning metal. Dead before they hit the ground, they were forever unaware of the return fire that thundered down the slope from the Americans.

Several of them hit the dirt, but the remainder of the Chinese squad was unharmed and continued their charge. A private threw a grenade and as if it was carried by the winds it landed square in the American pit. All eyes turned to it, waiting for it to end all of their earthly worries and doubts. Until a massive steel hand grabbed, tucked it to its equally huge chest, and allowed a small flash of light out. Then that same hand flashed blue and changed into a cannon. And it fired down the hill, a razor thin beam across the entire formation, who continued to run up the slope.

Some of them stopped, a look of disbelief on their faces as their upper bodies slid from their lower halves and coated the ground with their own red life. Some continued to run however, as the beam missed them. They were blown back off their feet by a single thick cerulean shot, caving in their chests and crushing their spines. One had enough life in him to scream before he pushed out his last breath.

In any language, pain is pain. Screams know no barrier, and to ignore that sound, that primal howl of anguish, requires years of training in being un-human. Despite the fact he was largely metallic and robotic, he was and always would be a human. He understood that pain. It was the same pain he felt when he was shot and knew he would never feel the pain of it, even if it meant he would live longer. No, he heard the yell. And he knew it was sent to him.

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Sneak attacks were not rare, but they were hardly common either. So it came as something of a shock that Victor's base would be the place of one. One hundred Chinese soldiers, moving with the shadows, in them, as them. Silent, no sounds escaping their steps, they entered the small encampment and were preparing to ambush the entire company. If all went according to plan they could eliminate at least half of the Americans in seconds. The rest would be forced to surrender or die.

Luckily, outside of Stone's tent a new soldier crushed some gravel under his boot. His highly developed metallic ear caught the sound and sent the signal to his brain, causing him to awake silently. Ever slowly rolling off of his table, he crept over to the entrance to his tent, his colossal bulk making no sound on the smoothed dirt ground under his feet. As he neared the edge of it, he remotely set off the alarms and then burst through the zippered opening, rendering his domicile with a new air conditioner.

Not daring to fire the cannon in such close proximity to fellow troops who he may hit, he had only one single option: hand to hand.

Fortunately his hands were more than up to the task as the iron fingers closed around throats and squeezed together with oiled servos. Bones cracked like twigs and he moved with deft speed through the soldiers, grabbing, crunching, pulling, tearing, swinging, punching. No question about it, metal was thicker than water.

Soon he stood alone in an area outside of the tents. Bodies lay around him, cracked open for the world to see. Others, twisted at odd angles lay there in the dirt, as if scoffing God to the form they should be in. Mouths agape in expressions of suffering. Eyes that told tales of demons in there midst. Arms and legs that were no longer attached to their bodies. And standing in the middle, above all the chaos and gore of the earth, was the one black teenager whose body armor couldn't come off.

As the sun rose over the treetops he felt the warmth of the rays as guns thundered off around him and orders were barked. All around him hung death, and nowhere could he find hope.

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Had it been any other time, this little field might have been a nice place to see. It had wide open plains, big shady trees, rolling hills, green grass, all the things that make it worthwhile to be outside. But today, it had a few new items in it. Tanks. Four of them. Big green monsters with American stars on them. And bodies. Thousands of them. Some alive, others not.

Those who were alive were not necessarily alive though. Not in the true sense of the word. They cradled broken arms, bleeding dressings, and shattered dreams. One soldier held two of his fingers in his hand as he waited for a medic. Another still was held by two others, trying to keep him calm as he made the discovery that half of his face was gone.

But it was not Stone's job to look at the dead and dying. It was his job to add to that number. And he did the best he could with his man-given limbs, his man-given weapons, and his man-given orders. The only thing in him that had nothing to say was his God-given conscience. Nothing any other part of him would have listened to anyway.

Some said he looked like a God himself, standing atop the lead tank, firing again and again into the Chinese columns as enemy soldiers unloaded fragments of metal at velocities that killed. Stood there as baseball sized metal spheres fell into the Chinese formation and blew up like obscene fireworks, providing the red so common in these times. Stood there as helicopters landed hundreds of yards downrange that more and more Chinese soldiers exited from.

He adjusted his aim, barked orders into his radio and had snipers focus on the distant aircraft. He himself fired on the farthest chopper, and watched with forced satisfaction as it became nothing but a yellow ball of flame. His smile faded however, when he saw among the burning wreckage with enhanced eyes that all of its contents were marked with red symbols. Crosses, that for the men in the field meant some bit of comfort when they needed it most. A way to keep from focusing on the death and destruction all around them.

He saw the last helicopter take off again and began to wonder just why he was there. He was interrupted when a mortar landed maybe thirty feet from him and a column of scarlet dirt plumed into the air. He could worry about the morality of it all later. He still had a job to do. Even if it meant more crates like that would be needed. Many more.

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At night, the tracers from the marine's assault rifles appeared as shooting stars. Blazing across the sky to their destination. In the villages, it seemed almost unreal, to see the soundless flashes of light streaking through the air. Silent for Stone had disabled the audio circuitry built into him after deciding he could no longer hear the screams. The screams that haunted him in his sleep. The screams that he heard even when he was alone.

The situation around him was bad. They were outnumbered at least six to one, in addition to being trapped in unfamiliar terrain with no intel and little chance of reinforcements. Nothing except a quick air strike. Like the kind he had called for maybe five minutes ago. HE could survive the battle. HE had the ability to fight his way through the Chinese lines and secure the victory. HE would most likely be the only one still standing when it was all over.

That thought tormented him every waking second. Knowing he would ALWAYS be the one to survive. Him and only him. That he would ALWAYS be there to watch young boys, his age or less, fall and die painful deaths. Cold, alone, and afraid. And he would ALWAYS be there to see that last breath, to hear that dying call for home or mother, to feel for pulses that had just run from his touch.

And worst of all he would be congratulated for it. The audacity of it all! How hundreds of men could die for a cause they may have never even known, and he would be given a pat on the back!? The perverse satisfaction he always felt now made him wish he could vomit. All in a day's bloody work.

His radar picked up the approaching aircraft and he re-activated his audio, and wished he hadn't. As soon as he had, he was treated to a symphony of evil. Discord and chaos taking the mic and singing their fatal song for all to hear. The signals from the aircraft pilots and the strike began.

Shrapnel fell from the sky and the heavens became alight with fire as machine guns walked across the Chinese positions.

One round at five thousand feet per second will shatter bones it does not even touch and the shock wave will turn organs into pulp. Ten, twenty, fifty rounds took what was once a marvelous example of nature and twisted it into something obscene, something that should not be.

Rockets flew free and detonated. Skin parted from bone and existence was ripped from so many outstretched hands.

Worst of all was the napalm. Cyborg did his research and found that napalm was a gel-like substance that burned ferociously for several minutes. And most of all, it stuck to whatever it landed on. Meaning when the Chinese soldiers began to burn, they could not put out the flames of confusion. The flames of inhumane minds. The flames of desperate men, willing to commit unspeakable atrocities to other men for the sake of "freedom". He would have spit if he wasn't entranced by the sight in front of him.

Men ran to and fro, trying to extinguish the fire clutching their jackets and melting their lives away. He saw one man stand up and run toward the American lines. Burning limbs thrashed in the air as the soldiers fighting for someone's freedom fired on him, trying to kill him before he met them and set the whole line ablaze. Victor could not even raise his hand to fire on him as he watched the man take rounds in the face, the chest, stomach, legs, everywhere. Still he kept on coming until stored ammo on him exploded in the heat and ripped his body in half, flying bits of flaming skin decorating the brilliant night sky.

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Dreams flashed across his mind, images he would have taken his own life to forget...

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A young woman, dead. Chinese. Her shirt and skirt ripped open. A bullet hole in her head....

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Children, babies, clutching onto their parents lifeless bodies, shot as they tried to run. Crying, screaming with their innocent lungs at the hypocrisy they would never understand.

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Wooden poles sticking out of the ground. With people tied to them. People with jagged red lines for decoration. Ropes keeping them standing. Hatred keeping them from resting.

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Bombs falling. Whole towns exploding. Thousands of people who never lifted a gun erased. Entire blood lines and histories erased from existence.

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"Sergeant Stone, sir!! Wake up! The war's over! We got the president and he is calling for a cease fire! We're going home!" The private had yelled to him. An eager young boy, trying to please. Maybe eighteen years old. Maybe.

Home. He contemplated the word as he looked up at the roof of his makeshift room. He did have a home, didn't he? Yes, the tower. With all of his friends. So innocent, so pure. Robin, the proud leader, obsessive yet loyal down to the core. Starfire. Alien pride and honest intentions. Beast Boy, joker and the spirit of the group. And Raven. The quiet one. The one who thought. The one who understood and approved of his decision in the first place.

His room with its rows of quiet computers. The gym and the weights he hefted with ease. And the kitchen, where he dazzled his teammates with his culinary knowledge. The television where he had played games. Played. Play? No, he would never play again. Not after this.

He leaned up in his seat and contemplated the young man in front of him. He was just barely older than him, only a few feet away from him. Even still, so distant, so much older, so very, very far away...

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I hope, with every shred of my being that this has horrified you and put you in a mood you have likely never felt. Maybe now you see why we protest this, this, atrocity. War is glorified everywhere. It may be absolutely necessary. It may save more lives than it takes. And it may mean the difference between most of our survival or all of our deaths. But please, please know it never a thing to be glorified. One more chapter. I hope you're ready. No songs for the next one.


	5. What Home?

I Am A Hero

A Fanfiction by Keystone

Disclaimer: Still not mine. Just this tale.

Authors note: None. This is the final chapter. Just read.

What Home?

Cyborg stepped off of the boat and took his first step on the old island in over a year. At once, so many memories flooded over him. Memories of fun, laughter, enjoyment. Youth and innocence. Naivete and misguided thoughts. But now, none of that mattered. He was home. At last. He would see the four people who had stood behind him so long.

The people who loved him so much to not stop him from doing what he knew was right. The people who would not know how to react to his sudden reappearance. He smiled at that, for the first time in months he smiled honestly. He figured he would just walk up, ring the bell, and be welcomed in with open arms, smiling and laughing all the way.

With the thought of home on his mind he approached the door.

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"Dude, when is that pizza gonna get here? I'm starving, man!" Beast Boy yelled in frustration. His stomach did most of the talking for him. He and the other four Titans had spent the day watching movies, seeing as there was no bad guy activity for at least a week. After the fourth Rocky, they decided some pizza was in order, so Robin made the call.

Three pizzas, one half cheese, half chocolate, one supreme, and one tofu. It had been about forty five minutes ago, and they were getting antsy. Nobody likes to be kept from their food, especially super heroes teenagers.

After listening to Beast Boy whine from the moment he hung up the phone, the rest of the teens were eagerly awaiting their food, if nothing more than to silence the twit for a few minutes. So when they heard the door bell, it was a mad dash to answer it first. Raven beat them all to it and simply phased through the floor to get to the main entrance while Robin, Starfire, and Beast Boy took the elevator.

Nearing the door she swore she felt something familiar, but thinking it was the same delivery boy they always had she opened the door and came face to face with a stranger.

Her mouth would have fallen off if anatomy would have allowed it, and she felt her legs become wobbly. No words, no words came to her mind as she struggled to find something to say. Every impulse in her screamed to cry, but she couldn't. Not saying she did not want to. She had an epiphany in her meditation and now could allow herself the joy of emotion. Still, she was unsure if she should. The lump was there in her throat, and she began to breathe heavily to try and clear it. Then decided it was pointless to hold it in.

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After convincing himself how easy it would be to just walk right in, Cyborg could not move as he saw Raven's slender form in the doorway, and watched her act as though she was seeing a ghost.

Not being able to really express herself as he remembered, it was a bit surprising when she lunged forward and hugged him. As hard as she could, she held on to him as though he would vanish into thin air if she let go. He could feel and hear her sobbing into his mighty steel body, and he was not sure if he could hold it himself much longer.

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The elevator came to a stop and everyone in it ran to the door, visions of steamy greasy flavor teasing their minds and pallets. Rounding the corner they came across a peculiar sight. Raven, holding onto and crying on someone. A very large someone. Who was black...and at the same time white...

Starfire slowly landed and Beast Boy stopped mid stride. Robin took off his mask and looked with uncovered eyes to be sure.

There he was. It was Cyborg. He was home.

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Raven finally let go when she heard the others behind her come to a complete stop. They walked as one to the doorway, all of them silent as the air around them.

Yes, this was Cyborg, but he was...different. His eyes no longer held the charismatic shine to them, the spark of honesty he was known for. His armor was dented in so many places, and bore the marks of buffing and resurfacing. Still, they could all see where he had been shot. Where he had been burned, hit, stabbed. And still here he was.

And his face and the story it told. Eyes looking past all of them but staring right at them. Scars that left angry red lines across his once smooth brown skin. A face that needed shaving.

Starfire ran her hand over his chassis, feeling the breaks and repairs made to him. She held up a hand to her mouth and bit on her fist to stop from exploding.

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Seeing them all, being face to face again, right here...he could touch them if he wanted, but he could not move.

All he could do was let the bag over his shoulder fall. Then he opened his mouth to speak, but found no breath to make words with. His iron body coming undone, he fell to his knees, and tears fell from his one human eye.

Out past the island, on the rocks, the waves crashed again and again.

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There was a reason this had no sound in it. Go somewhere quiet when you finish reading this. Somewhere very quiet. And think about this. That sound that you will hear, is the same sound millions of humans are hearing now. Absolutely nothing. Nothing can be heard when you are dead.

Thank you to all of you who read and reviewed this along the way. Especially my Twin, whom without I could have never found the passion to write this.


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